


Tomorrow's Concern

by EllieRose101



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:20:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23437579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieRose101/pseuds/EllieRose101
Summary: When Buffy is handed the opportunity to end her life and return to heaven, she discovers it might just be the catalyst she needs to start truly living again. (Goes off-canon during ‘Flooded.’)
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 82





	1. Get Out Clause

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for sexual content and the issue of suicide.

“He still turned you down?! That's crazy!”

Buffy didn’t answer, just hit the punching bag that little bit harder.

“I mean, even if the bank did get robbed,” continued Willow, “which you battling demons couldn't possibly know....” She trailed off for a second before rebounding with an emphatic, “You would think there would be some kind of reward!”

Buffy’s fists on the punching bag sped up but still Willow just kept on talking. “But _no,_ ” she went on. “They're like, _‘Oh, we're not gonna give you money unless you prove you don't need it.’_ I mean, what kind of system is that?”

“You know.” Buffy finally paused. “You're asking the wrong gal.” She hit the bag one last time for good measure. Because yeah, that would teach ‘em.

“Hey!” Willow stood up and walked across the training room floor towards her. “Buffy, you're mad.”

Buffy stared at her. “Well, yeah….”

“No,” said Willow. “I mean, this is good. Anger is a big, powerful emotion you should feel.”

“Uh… sure.” She shrugged. “It's gone now.”

Willow frowned. “Okay. Oh, here! Let me make you mad again. Ready? Um....” She pondered for a second before clicking her fingers. “Last semester, I slept with Riley.”

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “And you know I really doubt it.”

“Caught me,” said Willow. “Big fib. To, uh... cover up the sleazy affair I had with Angel!”

“Willow.” Buffy crossed her arms. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Pissing you off,” she said proudly.

“Yes, true,” admitted Buffy. “But why?”

“Well, 'cause, you know,” she floundered a little. “Because anger is good, right? And since you've been, um… back, you haven't exactly been big with... the whole range of human emotions thing.”

“Right,” said Buffy, considering her friend much more carefully now. “I wonder why that might be.”

Willow avoided her gaze. “Oh, I know! Name something you hate and we can go do that!”

Very carefully Buffy asked, “Are you sure hate is the emotion you wanna encourage right now?”

“Why not?” asked Willow, altogether too wrapped up in her ingenious plan to realize her perkiness was about to set off a powder keg.

Buffy had been adamant to Spike just the day before about how her friends shouldn’t know her secret, but Willow’s whole attitude was– she shook her head. It was beyond words.

“You know what really drives me nuts?” Buffy questioned aloud, filling her own voice with faux perkiness.

Willow’s eyes lit up. “What?”

The smile dropped from Buffy’s lips and her gaze hardened. “What really gets me is that you want me to be all ‘ra-ra’ with the anger when you have no idea what you’ve done.”

“Huh?” Willow blinked at her. “Buffy–”

“I mean, seriously!” she continued, now in full flow. Willow wanted the floodgates open, well here they were. “You took my life in your hands, played with it – pulled me out of freaking _heaven_ – and are trying to get me to _feel_ things, all the while having no idea that if I actually gave into my impulses I’d have strangled you in your sleep!”

She was panting, bearing down on Willow, who was looking like a fuzzy animal caught in someone’s headlights. Willow went to open her mouth and Buffy had to call on all her strength to pull herself out of the exchange and walk out the door.

She heard it slam behind her as she ran.

\---

Back at home, Buffy had taken a bath and thought about what she’d done. What she’d admitted to. _God!_ That was so not like her. But, damn it, she had every right to be mad. Even if she did mostly regret it.

Buffy had decided to try and talk things out with Willow when she got home but, when she did slink in a couple of hours later, one look had Buffy’s blood up again.

“Listen,” said Willow tentatively. “I am so, unbelievably sorry!”

“Sure,” said Buffy, biting back on her urge to say, ‘well, you should be.’

“Is… um.” Willow worried her lip. “Is what you said – before – was it true? You were in–”

“Yes, all right?” Buffy threw up her hands. “Please, just don’t even say it. I shouldn’t have– what is this?”

Willow interrupted her with the presentation of a small, purple vial. “It’s a potion.”

“A potion?” questioned Buffy, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Yeah, a….” Willow swallowed. “A _recovery_ potion, you could call it. It, um… if you drink it, it would – you know – undo that thing that I did.”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m sorry,” said Willow. “And I want to help.” She gestured to the bottle now in Buffy’s hand. “This is me helping.”

“This,” repeated Buffy. “This recovery potion fixes things? You mean it….”

“Uh-huh,” said Willow, nodding. “It would undo it. Like you weren’t even here.”

“Willow.”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Willow,” said Buffy again, not honestly sure what her next line should be. Part of her wanted to kick her ass while the other half wanted to cry and thank her before running upstairs and downing the whole thing in one go. Before she could do either, or both, there was a knock at the door and suddenly Giles was back and there were hugs and it was all too much.

Buffy slipped the bottle in her back pocket and set the conversation aside, slipping out onto the back porch when Giles asked Willow if he “might have a word.”

Buffy couldn’t breathe. Her head spun. What the hell was this? Willow brought her back, expected her to be normal. Be _thankful_. And now she’d given her a chance to undo it and go back to heaven again, just like that?!

She had to put her hand on the wooden railing to stop herself from falling down. Just when she thought she was out of danger of throwing up, the ‘word’ Willow and Giles were having in the kitchen kicked up a gear and Buffy heard Giles call Willow a “rank, arrogant, amateur.”

Buffy closed her eyes in a vain attempt to shut it out.

“You hear all that noise?” came an all too familiar voice.

Buffy took a deep breath but still didn’t open her eyes. “Hello, Spike.”

“You know watcher-boy doesn't mean anything by it.”

Buffy shook her head, thankful for someone to talk to. She so badly needed to get out of her own head. “No,” she said, her voice shaky. “It’s not him. Or….” She rubbed her forehead. “Not just him. Willow is….” Buffy clenched her fist and finally opened her eyes to stare at it. She didn’t have words for what Willow was.

At the edge of her vision she watched Spike’s boots leave the lawn and climb the two steps of the porch so he was standing beside her.

“You want me to take them out? It’d give me a hell of a headache, but I could probably thin the herd a little.”

Buffy smiled despite herself. She glanced up at Spike’s face and found him smiling back at her, clearly pleased with himself.

“Knew I could get a grin.”

She nodded, not trusting herself with words, but her feelings betrayed her anyway, the smile morphing into a frown before the first of the sobs escaped her.

“Shit!” Spike placed an awkward hand on her shoulder and she leaned into it. “Love, I’m sorry. Guess I said the wrong thing after all.”

Buffy shook her head again. “No, you– you had the right idea all along.”

“Eh?” He tilted his head to the side.

Buffy rubbed her eyes, not caring that she probably had mascara all down her cheeks. “You remember last year, when Glory was after Dawn and you wanted to run away together?”

“Yeah,” said Spike, a little hesitantly.

“We should do it,” said Buffy.

His brow knit together. “Come again?”

“Spike.” Her voice broke. “ _Please._ Can we just get out of here?”

Despite still looking bewildered, he offered her his arm and they set off into the darkness, the potion bottle still in her back pocket and harsh words from Willow and Giles still travelling on the wind behind them.


	2. Last Day Ever

Buffy happily let Spike lead her around, not really paying attention to where they were walking to until they stopped in front of his car. It was parked under some trees in a side street behind Restfield. Well, ‘parked’ was overstating it. Abandoned was more accurate.

“Fancy a drive, love?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to quip that she’d likely need a tetanus booster first, but she shoved the impulse aside and opened the passenger door, trash falling out at her feet.

“Do you even lock this thing?”

Spike shrugged and got in the other side. “No need. People know not to touch it.”

She had to bite her tongue again, lest she tell him it was less about knowing not to touch it and more about no one wanting to.

Spike put the key in the ignition and turned down the music that started playing automatically. “Where to?”

“I don’t know,” said Buffy. “Anywhere.”

He raised his eyebrows but didn’t question her further, just put the car in gear and set off in the direction they were already facing.

“Do you want to–”

“No.”

“Well, all right then.”

They sat in silence for a while, then Buffy apologized for snapping. “It’s not that I don’t wanna talk, I’m just not sure I know how.”

“Lotta words for someone claiming a lack of them,” Spike noted.

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.” When he took her at her word and let it be, she said, “I don’t want to go back tonight. I can’t face it. Can you find somewhere where you’re not gonna burn up come sunrise? I don’t know, a motel or something?” She paused and patted down her pockets. “Crap. I don’t have any money.” It was useless. Even if she had thought to grab her wallet from inside, she knew all too well there was nothing in it.

“I’ve got money, Slayer.”

She sighed a little in relief. “Okay then. I’ll, uh, pay you back I guess.”

He took his eyes off the road to look at her. “You sure about this?”

“No,” said Buffy. “But a motel wouldn’t be that much, right?” Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure.

“I’m not talking about the cash. I meant me, you. Sharing a room.”

“Oh.” She blushed. “Yeah. I mean, I….” She turned to look out the window. “I don’t want to be alone. I just don’t, y’know, want any of those other people.”

“Be still my beating heart,” Spike crooned. “Oh.” He held a hand to his chest. “Wait.”

Buffy laughed. “You’re such a dork.”

He winked. “Yeah, you love it.”

She looked away again, tried to get the window down – because, boy, her face was really hot all of sudden – but the handle wouldn’t budge.

“You gotta wiggle it.”

“Huh?”

Spike reached across and did it for her.

“Oh. Uh… thanks.”

\---

The place Spike chose was way nicer than what Buffy expected – a hotel instead of a motel – with a view of the coast.

“You didn’t have to,” she told him, so glad that he had, anyway.

In a rare moment of shyness, he looked away. “It’s just for the night, init?”

“Sure.” She avoided his gaze again, focusing all her attention on the soft feel of the Egyptian cotton sheets between her fingertips. When they were checking in, Spike had looked sidelong at her in response to the ‘how many beds’ question and she had dutifully kept her head down as she said they wanted a double.

The more she thought about it – and she’d been thinking about it a lot, as he drove – certainty had settled on her that she would drink the potion. Not that she even wanted it, per se, but that she would drink it inevitably because she just couldn’t not. She couldn’t live like this any more than she could decide to be a millionaire and wake up the next day with an overflowing bank account.

So. She was gonna do it. Just not yet. She needed to be sure. Get her head straight or whatever. Killing yourself wasn’t exactly something you could do on a whim. There wasn’t exactly an undo button. Usually.

There was also the other factor: the half of her thoughts during the car ride that didn’t center around her impending doom. He was stood in the middle of the room flicking through TV channels and she knew it was just because he didn’t want to sit on the bed; didn’t want to presume, or put her under pressure.

But the thing was that she’d wanted Spike since that first day she’d laid eyes on him and if she was going to die tomorrow, why the hell should she not be a little reckless first? Or a lot reckless. A lot reckless would be good.

“Spike.”

“Yeah, pet?” He didn’t turn around.

“ _Spike._ Will you look at me?”

His fingers stilled on the remote and he swallowed.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” said Buffy. He laughed and she conceded, “Yeah, I know how stupid that sounds. But you are. I can practically feel you vibrating.”

He half-turned and raised an eyebrow. Buffy narrowed her eyes in turn. “Come,” she said, patting the space on the bed next to her. “Sit down.”

Slowly, uncertainly, he did.

The air was so thick between them, Buffy couldn’t stand it. She gripped Spike’s hand. “Will you just kiss me?”

He opened his mouth to answer, or ask something in turn, but she shook her head and he shut it again. Tentatively, he leaned close, but it was her that closed the last little bit of distance.

As soon as their lips touched, the whole world fell away and Buffy couldn’t remember why either of them had ever been shy about it. Their bodies straining against each other was like the most natural thing in the world. Before she knew it, all their clothes were gone and he was on top of her, panting and staring into her eyes as he held himself there, just inches from being inside her.

She pulled him back into the kiss and grunted when he slid all the way in.

“Oh, god!”

“Are you–”

“Fine. I’m fine.” She held him tight so he wouldn’t pull away again. “Just… adjusting.”

He moaned her name and nestled deeper still, his mouth finding her throat. “So bloody wet,” he murmured.

Buffy twisted her hips and he began moving properly, their actions becoming a frenzy again and all words lost.

Later, when she’d caught her breath and he was casting curious glances at her from the corner of his eye – like he was worried she might disappear or suddenly realize what happened and get all mad about it – Buffy felt mortification slide over her. The tears were coming again and she couldn’t stop them.

“Buffy?” Spike stilled in the bed beside her. “Buffy, I’m sorry. I…. I’m an arse, okay? I knew you were vulnerable and I–”

She pressed a hand to his lips and looked deep into his eyes. “It’s not you.”

He kissed her fingers and waited for her to say something else. What could she say? She’d just had the most amazing sex of her life and now here she was, weeping about it. Except, yeah, like she was saying, it wasn’t really about that at all. “God, I’m such a mess. I’m sorry.”

Spike hesitated a moment longer then pulled her full into his arms again. She sagged against him and damn near broke all over again when he whispered, “I think you’re perfect,” into her hair.

He was using his soft, totally awestruck and sincere voice. The same one that had told her he’d fight for Dawn until the end of the world, and that every night he dreamed of saving her. And suddenly, it was all too much again. Buffy started moving her body against his until he took the hint and made all the thoughts disappear for another hour. Then she did it again. At some point, she became aware of daylight and then, a little while after that, it was dark again.

Buffy had a shower and let Spike towel dry her hair.

“You wanna head back?” he asked, trying and failing for a conversational tone.

“No,” said Buffy honestly. “But….” She sighed. “I should check on Dawn.” While she’d been scrubbing her skin raw, Buffy had realized it would be unfair to just end things without at least putting a few things right first. She couldn’t let herself think about it too much, but some part of Buffy’s brain had to acknowledge that Dawn couldn’t handle another straight loss. Not without something in place to make sure she didn’t instantly fall apart herself.

So. Buffy would go back to Sunnydale. She’d set some things up for her sister. And _then_ it would be okay to let go.

Spike started looking about, either for his clothes or his keys, or both, but Buffy laid a hand on his arm. “Love?” he questioned, studying her face.

“Tomorrow,” she said, leaning close again. “Let’s wait one more day.”


	3. Dawn Duty

Buffy didn’t ever want to leave the super fancy hotel with super snuggly vampire bedmate. She sighed as she rolled over, feeling utterly boneless. They’d ordered room service when the sun came up for the second time, and the concierge didn’t bat an eyelid when Spike asked him for warm blood.

“Is this place like a vampire hotspot?” Buffy wondered aloud.

“Nah,” said Spike. “It’s just used to odd requests. The more you spend, the less they care.”

She had frowned, guilt pooling in her stomach over the small fortune her need for space was costing him. He must have caught the look, because he smiled and said, “It’s all right, sweets. Special occasion.”

Buffy forced a smile in return, but the guilt-pool got deeper. He was so happy they were finally together. Only now did she realize how much worse it would make things when she finally took the potion.

Then she wondered if that were true, actually. Willow had said the potion would make it like she had never come back, but was that just from her perspective or for everyone else, too? She could ask her, except, well, she didn’t actually want to talk to Willow. Or look at Willow. Or even think about her.

So Buffy had indulged her brand new habit and screwed Spike until she wasn’t able to form a single coherent thought. The bellboy delivering the food had to knock a few times before they’d noticed and came up for air. 

And now here they were, surrounded by empty food trays and rumpled sheets.

“As much as I can’t believe I’m saying this,” said Spike. “We should get a move on if you want to drive back to Sunnydale while it’s still dark out.”

Buffy sat up and looked at the curtains. There was indeed no glow behind them. _Huh._ So sunset had already been and gone. When did that happen?

Grudgingly, she got the rest of the way up, showered, and dressed.

Spike’s glee started to die down the second he got back in the car, and the closer he got to the city limit sign, the quieter he got. Buffy wasn’t sure if reassuring him was the right thing to do, now she’d realized how big of a mistake the whole thing was, but he was gonna be at maximum hurt now anyway, so she gave into the urge and squeezed his hand.

He smiled appreciatively at her and was just about to say something when she caught sight of a neon sign from the corner of her eye.

“Ooh! Pull over!”

\---

Buffy walked into her house with an offering of deep-fried chicken only to find Dawn and Giles clearing dirty plates off the dining room table.

“Oh. You already ate.” She looked at her watch and winced. “Of course.”

“We did delay dinner,” said Giles. “On the off chance you might return, but–”

“No,” said Buffy. “It’s totally my bad. Sorry.”

Giles forced a smile and continued on into the kitchen, while Dawn glared at her for a full minute before trusting herself to speak. “I’m mad at you for going away and not saying anything,” she said, then took a deep breath. “But not _too_ mad, because Willow told us what you told her.”

“Right.” Buffy set down the chicken bucket and deflated into a chair. She felt rather than saw Spike move into the space behind her.

“What’s this then?”

Buffy rubbed her temple. “I told Willow about the heaven thing. Yelled at her, actually.”

“ _Ahhh_ ,” said Spike. “Good for you, love.”

Dawn gave him a quizzical look. “You already knew?” She turned her gaze back on Buffy. “You told him first?”

“I did,” admitted Buffy. “He’s, um… surprisingly easy to talk to.”

Dawn made a hmm-ing sound. “Is he who you were with, the whole time you were gone?”

“Yes,” said Buffy. She’d never realized her sister had a talent for interrogation before. That could have come in handy on some of her trips to see Willy the snitch.

“Angel called,” said Dawn, then. “He heard you were back. Said he wanted to meet you.”

“Oh. Uh… right,” Buffy mumbled. Did she imagine it, or did Spike just stiffen behind her? Whether real or a figment of her subconscious, the action solidified the decision in her mind. “If Angel calls again, tell him I’m busy.” To herself she added, “ _So_ don’t need to deal with him right now.”

“Check,” said Dawn, starting to warm up the conversation now. She was still throwing speculative looks at Spike. “Are you two, um–?”

“We’re going to bed,” said Buffy. “It’s been a long drive.”

Dawn’s mouth dropped open and Buffy told her to “zip it.” She lifted up the bucket of chicken again and held out her other hand to Spike, which he took with only the briefest hesitation.

Buffy felt herself relax as soon as they were touching again. How weird was that? They’d known each other years and only now when it was too late did she discover he could have such an effect.

Before climbing the stairs, Buffy turned back to Dawn. “Tell Giles I said goodnight and I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” she said, before asking if Willow was around.

“She’s upstairs,” said Dawn. “Has been keeping a pretty low profile.”

Buffy nodded. That made sense. “Right, well, goodnight.”

“Night,” said Dawn, watching them go.

On the landing, Buffy and Spike ran into Tara, who blushed furiously upon seeing them. “I was just...” she gestured to an empty glass she was holding, “going to get a drink.” She couldn’t meet Buffy’s eyes.

With another squeeze of his hand, Buffy released Spike, passed him the chicken and told him to go on into her room ahead of her. “I’ll just be a minute.”

He gave a curt nod and left them to it.

When they were alone, Tara apologized for her part in the spell. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I can’t believe we assumed. It was so stupid of us.”

“It was,” agreed Buffy. “But it’s done now. I actually wanted to thank you.”

“T-thank me?” questioned Tara.

“For looking after Dawn,” said Buffy. “I know it wasn’t easy, but it means a lot.”

“Oh, umm.” She blushed more furiously still. “You’re welcome.”

Buffy let her go on her way, taking a moment to herself before she went into her room after Spike. She pulled out the potion bottle and considered it. That feeling of inevitability about drinking it was still there, but she could put it off a while longer.

Tomorrow, she decided, placing it carefully back in her pocket. She would drink it tomorrow, for sure. She just needed another night with Spike, first.


	4. Father Figures

It took all of the morning and most of the afternoon, but Buffy had finally managed to get up-to-date contact details for her dad as well as the relevant printouts of California law that explicitly stated he was supposed to pay child support, even if Mom was gone. It wasn’t a fortune, but if Buffy could get all the backdated payments she was due for herself, and payments for Dawn going forward, it would certainly take a bunch of the pressure off. In the meantime….

“Giles, can I ask you something?”

He looked up from the book he was reading at the kitchen island. “Yes, I was rather wondering when you might want to discuss matters.”

“Okay.” She held up her hands. “So I deserve that for being avoid-o-girl.”

“Avoidance is perfectly understandable,” Giles assured her, “given the circumstances. I don’t want to give you a hard time – goodness knows you’ve had things hard enough as it is – so I’ve been giving you space, but I can’t say I haven’t been worried about you.”

Buffy sighed and slid onto a stool alongside his. “Yeah, things have been…. You know, the word ‘hard’ doesn’t actually do it justice.”

He smiled sympathetically. “The temptation is to ask how you are adjusting, but I suppose that question is really rather redundant.”

Buffy smiled back despite herself. “That was such a Giles sentence,” she noted. “Only you use so many big words.” More quietly she added, “I’ve missed that.”

“Oh, Buffy.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ve missed you, too. More than words.”

“That’s really saying something, then, Mr Word-Guy.”

They lapsed into a companionable silence for a moment, just enjoying the reunion, then Buffy pressed on with her request. “The thing is,” she began, “Anya crunched some numbers and apparently I’ve got big bills. And that’s not even counting the repair work the pipes in the basement need.”

“Ah!” Giles’ eyes widened. “I’ll help, of course. If I’d realized before–”

She hugged him, cutting off the rest of his sentence; and some of his airflow. “Sorry,” she said, releasing him when he started to gasp. “Sometimes I still forget to rein in the super strength.”

He tried to smile reassuringly through his wince. “I suppose it’s something you don’t have to worry about when it comes to Spike.”

Buffy braced herself. “I wondered when you were gonna ask about him.”

“I couldn’t help but notice you two shared a room last night and appeared to be….” He blushed. “…getting along quite well.”

_Oh, crap!_ Buffy prayed to God he wasn’t implying what she thought he was. He hadn’t actually heard them, had he? The previous night replayed in her mind and, yep, it had definitely been loud all right.

“Giles, I–”

He raised a hand. “Let’s not get into it too deeply, shall we? Just promise me you know what you’re doing.”

“Totally!” said Buffy, trying to push past her embarrassment. It wasn’t easy. Spike could probably hear her heart hammering the whole way upstairs and was probably laughing his ass off. Asshole vampire.

“Given that things are not easy for you at the moment,” Giles continued, “I wouldn’t like to think that Spike is–”

“He’s not taking advantage,” Buffy said quickly. “Everything that we, umm… _do_ , are things that I want him to.” _God, could this get any worse? I’m talking about doing my boyfriend to someone who’s practically my dad._

“In that case,” said Giles, “I will find a way to be understanding.”

Buffy hugged him again before making a hasty retreat. She’d expected the money talk to be way awkward, but how the conversation actually turned out took mortification to whole new levels.

Spike was sat up in bed when she went in, indeed grinning like an idiot. “Nice chat, love?”

She threw a pillow at his head but that only seemed to encourage him. Soon feathers were flying everywhere and Buffy was flat on her back, halfway to forgetting all of the awkward things she or anyone else had ever said.

\---

After dinner, Spike and Buffy headed out on patrol. There were a few fledglings but nothing too heavy, for which Buffy was deeply grateful. Before the dust had even settled, she already had her hands on Spike’s belt buckle.

Spike laughed, deep and rich, before taking her hands in his. “Easy there, kitten. What’s the rush?”

She smiled up at him. “The rush is the part that comes at the end.”

“Cute,” said Spike. He kissed her forehead but ultimately stilled her hands again.

Buffy backed up a little. “You’re not into this?”

“Hey, now,” he held up his now empty hands in a ‘go easy’ motion. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re turning me down,” said Buffy. “Wow. You’re actually turning me down. I can’t believe this.”

Spike pulled her close again. Or tried to, but Buffy still held back a little. “I’m not turning down anything, just thought, you know….”

“What?” said Buffy, her head cocked to the side. He was being weird and she didn’t get it. Had he really had enough of her? Already? Changed his mind about being in love now they’d actually taken a step? It wouldn’t be the first time _that_ happened.

She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “I didn’t notice how cold it was when I came out. Shoulda grabbed a jacket. I guess I’ll go home.”

“Whoa,” said Spike, not letting her get two steps before stopping her with a hand on her elbow. “Two minutes ago you wanted to shag my brains out and now you’re blowing me off? What’s going on?”

“Oh, _I’m_ blowing _you_ off?” snapped Buffy, hands on hips. “I’m not the blow-ee, Mister.”

Spike sighed. “Okay, let’s take this back. All I was gonna do is ask if you wanted to go on a date.”

Buffy opened her mouth to snap at him again but stopped short as soon as her brain registered the request. It took a moment. “A date?” she questioned.

“Yeah,” said Spike. “You, me. A movie, maybe, or dancing. Could go to the Bronze.”

She looked sideways at him again. “You’d pick the Bronze over sex? God, I really am that bad, aren’t I?”

“Bad?” scoffed Spike. “You’re off your nut. You– you’re magnificent!”

“Oh.” She blushed, momentarily distracted by the praise, then shook her head. “I still don’t get it. If I’m so good, why don’t you wanna?”

“Buffy, love.” He took her hands in his again and looked deep into her eyes. “I always want to.”

“You do?” she asked, hating how young her voice sounded.

“With you, yeah,” he said, softly.

“But?” she pressed.

“But,” said Spike, “I was kinda hoping we were more than that, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we were all right – you and me – init? Before the life-changing sex. We could hang out. You’d been talking to me.”

“I’m still talking to you, Spike.”

“Yeah.” He twisted his lips to the side. “Not so much. You didn’t tell me about fighting with Willow, for one thing.”

“So I have to tell you everything, now?” asked Buffy, defensive.

“No,” said Spike, his nostrils flaring. “You’re twistin’ it. I’m just saying that must have been a pretty big deal, and you didn’t say anything.”

Buffy sighed, suddenly exhausted again. Which was interesting, actually. She’d been so tired the whole time she’d been back, right up until the sex marathons when suddenly sleep didn’t seem to matter anymore. “So, maybe I got a little caught up,” she admitted. “You’re right, we had been talking more before. And I don’t want that to stop. You–” she swallowed. “You’re good at it. I should have told you about Willow.”

He was smiling at her again, leaning in for one of the sweet kisses, different from the all-consuming kind, and damn it, now she was practically lying to him by omission. She hadn’t been thinking about it at all but, now he’d brought it up, she could totally see he was right. She’d been pulling away even as she let down all of the physical barriers. And now he thought everything was okay again, when she had probably the biggest thing ever still on her mind and couldn’t say a word because he’d be devastated.

‘Oh, yeah, by the way, I’m planning to kill myself tomorrow.’ Yeah, that was casual. _I could totally say that. Not._

“So,” said Spike, perky again. “I’m figuring, given how many times it’s been, that this ain’t exactly a one night stand. How about it?”

“A date?” Buffy questioned again. “Um… yeah, sure. Just–” God, she couldn’t do it. “I actually am feeling really cold, and I don’t really want to dance. Can we just go home?”

The effect was instantaneous. Even though he was still smiling, Buffy saw the light in his eyes go from vibrant to dull, like a puppy who had just been yelled at for getting over-excited.

“Sure, Buffy,” he said, perfectly calmly. “Whatever you want.”


	5. Taking Heart

Buffy couldn’t do it anymore. Her talk with Spike the night before had really shaken her, in ways she hadn’t exactly found words for yet, and now she was panicking again. They’d gone home and had sex just like she wanted, but it hadn’t worked like before. It was still good, but Buffy’s brain hadn’t been able to turn all the way off. And now here they were, in bed together, him sound asleep and while her mind rattled along.

He wanted more. Of course he did, because he’s Spike. Spike never did half-measures. She knew that. So why didn’t she expect this?

Okay, so she knew the answer to that one, she just didn’t like it: she hadn’t thought it would matter, because she hadn’t expected to still be around. God, it sounded awful just admitting it in her own head. She’d been entirely selfish and hadn’t thought about him at all.

And then, when she finally had considered his feelings, she’d thought it was too late and he couldn’t possibly get any more hurt. Wrong, wrong, wrong. She, out of everyone, should have known there were no limits to pain and suffering.

Everything had flipped in just a couple days. It was like her pain and suffering transferred to him because, where her main problem had been not knowing how to carry on living before, it was now trying to figure out how to slip away without killing him, too.

Buffy groaned and rolled over. It was impossible!

Spike’s arm followed her, seemingly of its own accord. Without opening his eyes, he pulled her close and whispered soothing nonsense statements into his pillow.

Buffy’s heart clenched. How had she landed someone so wonderful? How come Spike had been this great all along and she’d had no idea? She could kick herself for not agreeing to date him the year before.

She looked at him, so close to her and so content, and it pulled at something so deep within her, she thought it might just tear her apart. She couldn’t bear it.

Shifting again, Buffy started looking around for her clothes in the half-light of dawn coming in through closed curtains.

Spike opened sleep-filled eyes. “You all right? Trouble?”

“Full bladder,” she lied. “I think I might take a walk.”

“Okay,” he said, because it wasn’t exactly the kind of statement you could object to, but Buffy got the sense he smelled a rat anyway. Stupid perceptive guy.

She grabbed the first set of clean items she came to, not caring if they matched, and went to the bedroom door as fast as she could without being even more suspicious only to be stilled when he said, “I love you.”

Buffy looked back at him, suddenly wanting to cuddle against his chest and weep until everything in the world made sense again. She swallowed, said she’d be back soon, and turned the handle.

\---

Being outside was nice. The air was nice, helping to clear Buffy’s head a little. She consulted her mental checklist, trying to focus on practicalities instead of feelings, and came to Xander’s name. After him, there was just Willow left.

And Spike, of course, but she wasn’t letting herself think about him yet. Nope. This was Xander time. If this was gonna be the last time they saw each other, he deserved her full attention.

‘And what does Spike deserve?’ asked some errant part of her brain that clearly hadn’t got the memo about not thinking about him. She sighed. _He deserves a freaking medal for putting up with my stupid ass._

Buffy walked faster, putting purpose into each of her steps. It didn’t work. Her brain still hummed with Spike. Her fingers itched to touch him again, legs wanted to run back the other way, and she was painfully aware his sweat and… other things were still all over her. She should find that gross but, god, she loved it. How did that happen?

_And what in the_ hell _am I going to do about it? There’s no answer! No way I can leave without destroying him. Well, except the obvious, but that’s just_ –

“Hey, Buff! You’re up early.”

She blinked up at Xander, standing there in his doorway; next to his open door, which her closed fist was still held up against. She pulled it back.

“Uh, hi.”

He looked at her curiously. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I, uh… got a lot on my mind.”

“Right,” said Xander, moving aside to let her in. “Willow told me.”

“Huh?” She whipped around. “Willow told you about Spike? What did she say?”

“What?” said Xander. “Back up, I was talking about heaven. What’s Spike got to do with anything?”

_Wow. Duh, Buffy. Get a clue._ “Sorry. Lot of thoughts,” she said again. _You walked the whole way here on autopilot and are now sounding like a super freak._ She took a deep breath. “How are you?”

Xander hesitated before saying, “Worried about one of my best friends, currently. You sure you’re okay?” She opened her mouth and he raised a hand. “I know, lot of thoughts.”

Buffy gave herself a shake. “I already said that, huh?”

“A little,” he allowed. “Social call? I have coffee.”

“Ooh!” Her brain perked up at that. “Coffee good. Yes please.”

Xander walked over to his kitchenette, probably relieved to at least have a script for beverage making. “So… uh, social call?” he asked again.

“Yeah,” said Buffy. “I wanted to hang. It’s been a while.”

Xander nodded and continued about his business. He wasn’t dressed for work, Buffy noted. Her eyes flicked to the calendar and she tried to figure out what day it was. She’d lost track of everything. Resisting the urge to ask and belie her extreme lack of awareness, she waited until he was done with the mugs and sitting across from her.

Xander cleared his throat. “There’s a Spike thing?” he questioned.

Buffy groaned and put her head her hands. The day was going abysmally badly already. _Really gives me hope for later._ “Spike’s fine,” she said. “There’s no… thing.”

Xander frowned. “I’m clearly missing a whole bunch here. Give me something, Buff.”

She sighed and held up her hands. “Okay, okay. So I’ve been sleeping with Spike”

He jumped to his feet. “What the heck? Am I in Bizarro World?”

“Oh, sit down,” snapped Buffy. “What happened to ‘ _No one is judging you. It's understandable. Spike is strong and mysterious and sort of compact but well-muscled_ ’?”

Xander snapped his jaw shut and took his seat. “Okay, fair,” he allowed, even though his eyebrows were still up in his hairline somewhere. “I’m listening.”

Buffy shook her head. “I really didn’t come here to talk about him.”

“You can’t exactly leave it just hanging there,” said Xander.

Okay, that rankled. “Why not?” she demanded.

“Why not, Buffy? He’s Spike!”

“The guy who fought beside you all summer and took care of Dawn, yeah, I’m familiar.”

Xander held up his hands. “Let’s back up a second, ‘cause I feel this conversation is headed south fast.”

“Well, maybe it should,” said Buffy. How she thought she could just come here and say goodbye without it being weird and complicated, she didn’t know.

“Come again?” said Xander.

“South,” said Buffy. “We’ve been headed there for a while. With you always sniping at Spike, always on his back about something, questioning my judgments, and you know what else? I’ve been feeling pretty pissed at Willow but she didn’t do that spell on her own.”

Xander blinked very slowly as Buffy panted, her rant having come to an abrupt halt.

“I really hadn’t meant to say all that, but I guess it needed to be said.”

“I guess,” said Xander. “Look, Buffy, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Me too.”

“Can we start again?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Lot of water already under the bridge, but what the hell, we can try.”

“You don’t sound like yourself,” said Xander.

“I haven’t been feeling very much like myself,” confessed Buffy. _Except when I’ve been with Spike_. Boy did she get what he meant by the whole ‘drowning in you’ thing now. He’d taken her over and it wasn’t even a bad thing.

“Things have been pretty messed up,” said Xander.

Buffy scoffed. “Yeah, I’ll say.”

He eyed her speculatively. “But you’re sure you’re okay about it all?”

“No,” she admitted, finally. “I’m, like, a total mess.”

“And Spike is…?”

Buffy glared. “Clearly a major sticking point for you.”

“Hey, I’m trying,” said Xander. “Asking questions. Trying to understand.”

“Okay, well, I’m not ready to talk about him yet,” said Buffy.

“Fine,” said Xander, “How about I go first: I proposed to Anya.”

“Whoa! What?” said Buffy. “That’s huge! When did–”

“Before,” said Xander, cutting her off. “Before everything went… south.”

“Oh,” said Buffy.

“Yeah,” agreed Xander. “With everything the way it is, we haven’t said anything, though Anya’s pushing and I’m….” He gestured ineffectually.

“Pushed?” provided Buffy.

He forced a smile. “Something like that.”

“So,” said Buffy. “We’ve both got issues.”

“At least yours make sense,” said Xander. “Mine are… I mean, I have this great girl, right? I love her, and she loves me. Why am I freaking out? That shouldn’t be a problem. It’s like the exact _opposite_ of a problem.”

Buffy felt her eyes glaze over, Xander’s words registering with her deeper than he could have ever realized. “Yeah,” she said at last. “It’s still scary, though.”

“Super scary!” exclaimed Xander. “The scariest!” She smiled and he looked strangely at her. “I’m missing something again, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” said Buffy, thoughtfully. “I think we both are. But, you know, I think we’ll figure it out.”

“You’ve got more faith than I do,” he said grimly.

“You gotta,” said Buffy, really starting to feel how true that was. “Listen, I should go. There’s something I gotta do.”

“Hey, wait.” He put a hand on her arm. “Are we okay?”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, we are.”

He smiled. “You sure you don’t want another cup of coffee you can let get cold?”

“Oh.” She looked down at her abandoned drink. “Uh, no. I’ll pass. Thanks for the chat, but there’s something I’ve been putting off and I should really….” She shrugged and grabbed her coat. “I have a thing.”


	6. The Inevitable

Buffy sat down heavily on her bed and felt Spike shift behind her in response.

“Okay, I have a confession.”

He shifted some more. “Love?”

She half-turned to look at him, propped up on one elbow, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Looking at him made it harder, of course, but this was important. Buffy worried her lip. “There’s um…. Could you maybe put a shirt on?”

Spike’s hand stilled on its journey across his face and his eyes went wide. He swallowed before doing as she asked. “This is where the other shoe drops, then, is it?”

Buffy didn’t really know what he meant but ploughed on anyway. If she didn’t say it now, she likely never would. “I used you,” she admitted. “I’m sorry. When I started things, I was only thinking about me and I should have figured it wasn’t fair on you.”

“And now, what?” said Spike. “You’ve had your fun and realized I’m surplus to requirements? Good for the itch, but not for settling down, eh?”

Buffy stood up so she could look at him fully. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s the great breakup speech, init, love? I’m familiar enough.”

“Spike, no.”

He pulled back the covers and put on his pants with more force than was strictly necessary. “Spare me,” he snapped, before taking a breath. “Spare both of us,” he amended, lowering his voice. “I should’a known. Or,” he sighed, “I guess I did know. That makes it on me.”

“Spike, I’m not breaking up with you!”

“No, you– wait.” He looked up at her again. “What?”

She walked the three steps to his side and sat down again, taking his hand. “That wasn’t where I was going with this.”

“Oh.” He deflated beside her, all the fight leaving him. “Oh, shit. I’m a prick. Sorry, Buffy.”

“No,” she said, “No, It’s fine. I get it. And I do deserve the anger, just not for what you think.”

“Love?” he questioned again.

“Okay.” She closed her eyes. The coward’s way out it was after all. “Hear me out.”

He squeezed her hand. “All right.”

She blew out a breath. “When I started things – when I kissed you a-and initiated sex – I wanted to know what it felt like. I let myself give into it, because….” God, her voice was shaking. “Because I always wanted to, and–” _Shit, this is so hard._ “I planned to kill myself right after.”

Even without him moving or saying anything, Buffy could feel Spike retreat inside himself. She steeled herself and snuck a glance at his face.

He had tears in his eyes and tried to speak but didn’t manage anything.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, tears in her eyes now too. “I didn’t think about how it would hurt you more once I was gone again. I just… I wanted to feel something. You know, my last night on earth. B-but the other thing is that I don’t want to now. Not anymore.”

He damn near stared a hole through her but still didn’t say anything.

Buffy gripped his hand tighter, willing him to understand. “Spike, I don’t want to kill myself anymore. I want to live. With you. _Because of_ you, and the love you showed me; the strength you gave me.”

His own grip finally held back just as hard and she breathed a small sigh of relief. “Spike,” she continued, because she might as well, now. Everything else was already out there. “Spike, I love you.” 

Eyes wider than before – _wilder_ – and streaming in a steady torrent of tears, Spike pulled Buffy to his chest. He strained, his chest moving up and down with the gasped sobs, before finally saying, “Buffy. Oh, Buffy,” against her hair. 

“I know,” she said. “I know. I’m sorry. I love you. Sorry.”

It was a long time before either of them said anything else. Spike’s grip didn’t let up one bit and she was glad of it. She clutched back just as hard, so thankful for him grounding her.

Buffy could barely believe it was real. Him. The situation. Any of it. And yet all of the feelings it brought with it were so vivid, Technicolor, it hurt to feel exposed to them. In the end, saying ‘I love you’ hadn’t been half as hard as admitting she had wanted to die. Why was that a thing? 

“Don’t do it,” said Spike, suddenly breaking the silence and interrupting her thoughts.

Buffy pulled back a little to look at him. “Huh?”

He shook his head. “I was asking you not to– but I can’t. I can’t ask you not to if you’re suffering so much. It wouldn’t be fair of me to–”

“Spike!” She wanted to hit him in the head but settled for scooting closer again instead. “I already said I’m not gonna.”

“But–”

“I’m not,” she affirmed again. “I promise, I won’t. When it came down to it, I didn’t even want to. I thought I needed to– to escape, I guess, but I kept putting it off because we were together and I didn’t want that to end. And it eventually clicked that not wanting us to end meant I didn’t need to escape after all and– god, I don’t know if any of this makes any sense, but it’s all been in my head and you were right about me holding back.”

“This is why,” said Spike, realizing. “Why you stopped sayin’ anything.”

“Yeah,” said Buffy, freshly shamed. “I didn’t even notice myself doing it.”

“Oh, Buffy,” he said again, kissing her cheeks. “You’ve been to hell and back, of course you don’t know which way is up!”

Laughter bubbled up in Buffy’s chest, completely at odds with the gravity of the conversation, and it took Spike looking at her sideways for a minute before he figured out what he’d said.

“God, I’m a pillock!”

“You are not,” said Buffy, before pausing. “Actually, I don’t know what one of those is, so you might be, but it doesn’t sound like a good thing and you are.”

“I am?” Spike questioned. “What?”

“You’re good, dummy.” She nudged his shoulder, suddenly regretting asking him to put on clothes again. “I love you.” There were those words again. They just came to her lips naturally and all she had to do was not fight them. “I mean it, Spike. I do.”

He surged forward, his lips on hers, using the momentum of the movement to turn them and have her full in his lap. “God, Slayer. To hear you say it! I love you, Buffy. So bloody much.”

Buffy kissed the side of his mouth and wriggled deeper into his arms. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t!” he vowed. “I’ll love you to the end of– for forever!”

She moaned against his needy hands but just had to say one last thing before entirely losing herself. “Spike?” she said, panting.

“Hmm?” He raised his head from between her breasts. “What is it, kitten?”

“Umm….” She bit her lip. “Do you think, maybe, we could go on a date later?”

\---

Buffy was bubbling with excitement. It was such a weird thing to feel just a week after wanting to end everything and two weeks after waking up in a coffin, but breaking the pain apart and talking about it made all that fizzle. And the love, of course. The love helped a lot, too.

It wasn’t like Buffy’s life was suddenly perfect, or anything, but it was livable, and comfortably so. That was amazing! She smiled to herself as she stripped the bed. Spike was singing in the shower and it was all a little surreal.

After the dirty sheets were in the hamper, Buffy began separating the dirty clothes from the clean strewn all across her floor. She shook her head. Spike was a total bad influence when it came to being tidy. Her mom would have had a fit, if she’d seen it, but Buffy guessed it wasn’t so bad. Even chores weren’t so chore-y when you were in love and– _gahh, okay, I sound_ totally _sappy!_

She smiled again. It was nice. _I guess I needed a little sap in my life._

The potion bottle clinked to the floor when Buffy lifted her jacket, giving her momentary pause. She lifted it up, stared at it for a while, then marched into Willow’s room and slammed it down on her dresser.

“Why did you even give this to me? What were you thinking?”

Willow flinched. “Buffy, I–”

“Why?” demanded Buffy again, despite knowing that she wasn’t giving her a chance and must sound entirely crazed. It was like, as soon as she’d seen the bottle again, all of her happiness got put on hold until she could have it out with Willow. Everything had clicked and Buffy realized just how close she had come to losing all of her chances of future happiness.

Willow closed the textbook she’d been highlighting and sat up fully. “I wanted to give you the illusion of choice, to try and make you feel better.”

“What?” Buffy blinked. “Illusion? What are you talking about?”

Willow looked past her and Buffy turned to see Dawn walk down the hall, pause, spy the bottle and pick it up.

“Ooh, shiny!” 

Buffy watched, horrified yet completely unable to move, as Dawn unscrewed the lid and gulped down the contents. Two seconds later, she made a ‘yuck’ face.

“Is this Mountain Dew?”


	7. Day One

Buffy gaped at Dawn a full second longer before snatching the potion bottle from her hand. “W-what were you–? How could–?” She was shaking so hard, it was difficult to get the words out, but she eventually managed, “Why would you do that?”

“What?” said Dawn. “Really, Buffy, I think it was Mountain Dew.”

“Mountain Dew!” exclaimed Buffy. She turned to face Willow again. “Mountain Dew?”

Willow flashed a lopsided grin. “Uh, yeah?”

Buffy blinked at her before slowly turning around again. She would deal with Willow in a second, when she had words, when her heart rate came back through the roof, and when she wasn’t quite so likely to stab her. “Dawn, you can’t just drink from random potion bottles.”

“Okay, geeze, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t ‘geeze’ me! Do you have any idea how dangerous that could have been?”

“It was Mountain Dew!”

“But you didn’t know that. You couldn’t have known that!”

Dawn repeated her apology, this time sounding like she meant it at least a little bit. Buffy continued to frown at her.

“Go to your room. I wanna talk to you more later.”

“Fine,” said Dawn. She flounced out of the room at the same time Buffy heard the bathroom door open. Dawn shrieked. “God, Spike, wear a towel or something!”

Dawn’s door slammed and, two seconds later, Spike arrived in Willow’s room, panting and having acquired said towel. He was still dripping.

“There was yelling. What happened?” He looked at Buffy seriously. “You okay?”

Buffy stared back at him, her brain suddenly full of fog. She had to put fingertips to her lips to make sure she wasn’t drooling.

“Buffy?” Spike questioned.

“Oh, uh.” She pointed to the potion bottle. “Yeah, I…. It’s Mountain Dew?”

Spike raised an eyebrow and turned to Willow. “What happened?”

“Misunderstanding?” she hedged.

He closed his eyes and calmed his breathing before trying again. “Is there actual trouble, or can a bloke finish his shower?”

“You’ve been in there for, like, ages!” exclaimed Buffy, changing tack when Spike stared at her again. “I mean, yeah, go ahead. We’re fine.”

He rolled his shoulders and strode out again with mutterings of “bloody women.”

Buffy gave herself a shake, summoning all her strength not to follow him into the bathroom. Once more, she turned to Willow instead.

“Explain.”

Willow stood up and started to pace. “I guess it was a stupid idea, but I freaked. When you said what you said, I racked my brains trying to think of a way to fix it. I had some ideas, but then I worried that it might make it all worse. I really did feel awful, Buffy. I’m sorry.”

Buffy’s brow crinkled as she tried to get her head around it. She understood freaking out, and being sorry, and wanting to fix things, but… “How did you get from that to Mountain Dew?”

“I was worried you might do something… drastic,” said Willow. “So I thought I would take a risk.”

“The illusion of choice,” said Buffy, remembering her earlier words. She supposed it had worked, but it was still pretty crazy. “What would have happened if I drank it and nothing happened?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t,” said Willow. “Obviously. I thought that if you thought you had the option, it would put things in perspective and you’d discover you didn’t actually want it after all.”

“And?” prompted Buffy.

“And, I guess, I thought that if you _did_ take it and it didn’t work, you would say something and then I’d know for sure how bad it was and could come up with a real plan. We could talk about it. Try and work through stuff and….” She trailed off. “I can admit it wasn’t exactly my best idea ever.”

In her pacing, Willow had reached the end of the room and was facing away from Buffy. Before she got a chance to turn around to continue back the other way, Buffy found herself enveloping her in a hug.

Willow squeaked, clearly not having expected the sudden contact either.

Buffy didn’t let go. She couldn’t, lest she get washed away in all the emotions flooding through her. Because stupid or not, the fake potion had done its job and then some. She had Spike because of it. God, she could kiss Willow.

“Y-you’re not gearing yourself up to strangle me, are you?” asked Willow, hesitantly.

Buffy laughed. A real, genuine laugh. “I should, you know, but I’m actually too happy for that.”

“Happy?” questioned Willow. “Really?”

Buffy released her and felt a big grin spread across her face in answer.

“Wow,” said Willow. “Is this because of…?” she gestured towards the bathroom.

“Uh-huh,” said Buffy. “He’s….” She smiled some more. “Lovely. Really lovely.” Willow stared at her and Buffy added, “Emphasis on the love.”

“Wow,” Willow said again. “I… I think I’m stunned. How did–?”

“Long story,” said Buffy, “But the short version is that your crazy idea surprisingly worked. Hence the no strangling.”

Willow released a deep, relieved sigh. “I’m still really sorry I messed it all up.”

Buffy shook her head. “It’s done now. And, hey, it worked out. Just, you know, no repeat performances.”

“You got it,” said Willow. “What now?”

Buffy considered it thoughtfully. “I’m gonna go double-check Spike has enough towels, and you’re gonna have a serious talk with Dawn about spell safety. Downstairs, where you won’t be in the way of… towel checking.”

“Right!” said Willow, blushing furiously. “I can so do that!”

Buffy grinned and continued plotting out loud. “Maybe we could get the whole gang ‘round, later,” she mused. “Have a party.”

“A party?” questioned Willow. “What for?”

“First day of the rest of our lives.”


End file.
